Saturday, October 24, 2009

sketchbook: Capitalism's Got the Grunge

October Waltz

Breezy sway against the wind, howling laughter in my ear, autumn dances with me. My throat hugs the scarf as I breathe deep this crisp rainy evening. I saunter in the October Moon, letting fresh thoughts skip and play in my head.

The President Announced another Emergency

Day after day, the hum of reconstruction slips off the tongue of politicians, postulating prosperity if we just cut more fat from the budget first. They become as desperate as the food lines getting longer while impotent homes grow in rows. A man walked onto the bus today, spitting curses from the mouth, he yells out “Who on this bus is on unemployment?” Hand after hand raise greeted with a hoop and holler of frustration’s pride, he answers back, “I thought so.”

I am employed. I have insurance. I have a home.

I pretend I am inoculated from this infection breaking down the leukocytes of capitalism. The American Dream’s gotten the grunge as it hacks up and coughs the sh!t all over us. Econogreen, the promised vaccination, hasn’t gotten to the masses yet.


I am not infallible like my cavalier veneer suggests. Like a bruised fruit, I sometimes blush at a harsh tongue smacking against the cheek with judgment. Criticism of my lines robust in shape crushes against my ego and makes this runner run. Arbitrarily applied rules projected against my skin burns worse then a sunburst against this milky hide. The inflictor may not know this, quick is this shell to gleam with stoic regime, I scurry under my shield of impenetrability. A skill? An attribute?

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Midnight Shift: Tired, Bored...oh look its the paint brush ap.

Um, I’m moving. I have to pack…boxes and stuff.
I have to decide what to purge and what to keep.
I have to coordinate moving said boxes and stuff to the next residence.

I just want a big hug.

A really really big hug.

Sunday, October 18, 2009


Time beat a second past the hour,
the addendum to this story,
it struck the soul in triplets.
Born in the off beat,
don't get lost in the counter melody,
my guardian angel explained.
The metronome kept beating
against the tolls of the masses
and it wasn’t until this chilly autumn’s dawn
providence did notice it had forgotten to reset my clock
and made the adjustment.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Sinus Pressure & Pressured Time: Chill out Grasshopper!

A cold dipped into my chest leaving me pretty worn these last few days. I’m trying to move to a new locale by the end of the month and find myself on hold until further notice. It came on while I wrapped up my last trip to NYC. My love took care of me until I had to fly out and the flight made things worse. Now, I’m working a late night, guts feel bruised and worn from the coughing. The good news is I do not have H1N1, just the standard virus knocking around the sinus passages.

I’ve focused on rest instead of stressing out on all things I have to do. I managed to clean my hall closet today, got out the random boxes I kept for moving occasions, and discovered a box of old loose leaf journal entries. Top page was me writing about a cold in 2005 when I had to stop pushing myself and let myself rest. Heh. Looks like I finally listened to my needs. I cannot remember who, perhaps my x-lover at that time, regardless in the entry someone called me out for being “mean to myself”. Apparently I push myself too hard. Or rather pushed.

I find it interesting that history collects in my corners. I have layers and a past now. I can look back and sketch arches of change and self-discovery. I do like that I have done the work that goes into evolving. I find my integrity has remained solid and most assuredly my character holds steadfast in a day and age when drama is confused for authentic experiences.

Scratch that last paragraph. This cold and working a midnight shift makes my brain quite foggy. I am not sure what I am talking about at the moment. I dare say I am cranky tonight too. Though I have spent the last couple of days resting through this cold, restlessness is beginning to seep in and I want to get back to progress towards the move, towards my goals for the year. Hell, I just want a good old fashion road trip to look forward to.

I believe that this moment in time calls for patience. The move, the current mood, the evolution of my relationships, and my past creeping into my tomorrows…all these things need silent meditation and patience. I can tell because I am beginning to feel this sense of frustration that comes with wanting to tell G-d to go f-ck a canary. This is not a good sign! I am starting to get frustrated at my circumstances. Bitter fruits reside in my taste buds. So, its best to focus on the tasks that need completing and let the thoughts stay mellow in the mean time. Change has a tendency to come with uncertainty before things get sweet again. I cannot see what is coming around the corner in my world. I don’t like this blind alley feeling permeating the upcoming move and seasons. At the same time, I’ll let grace deal with the unknown for the time being until I can trust things again.  Something tells me that this change is occuring at a cellular level.  Ah, what is this?  What breeches my door and asks me to keep the faith just a little longer?